


Whatever Barnaby Wants, Barnaby Gets

by animehead



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Dark Humor, M/M, Minor Character Death, Murder, OuroBarnaby, OuroKotetsu, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-07
Updated: 2012-08-07
Packaged: 2017-11-11 15:34:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animehead/pseuds/animehead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barnaby has always been on the receiving end of mistreatment. It's about time he changed that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever Barnaby Wants, Barnaby Gets

He’s been awake for hours, but he sees no point of getting out of bed. Rolling onto his side, Barnaby spots the used condom draped over the trash bin, not quite making it inside. He’s repulsed by it, disgusted knowing that the thin covering of latex had been all that separated him from Maverick’s decrepit cock mere hours ago.

 

Barnaby immediately averts his gaze straight ahead when Maverick enters the room.  Forcing a smile, he settles against one of the many pillows adorning the bed and rubs the empty space next to him. 

 

“I was starting to think you were never going to return,” Barnaby says. “Did you successfully finish your work? Is there any way I can help?”

 

“Yes,” Maverick answers. 

 

And this comes as a shock to Barnaby because Maverick makes a habit of telling him just how useless he is. How if it wasn’t for his looks, he’d be a complete waste of human flesh and blood. 

 

“What would you like me to do?”

 

Maverick loosens up his tie, tugging at the silk material so that it’s less suffocating. Briefly he wonders if he should use it to bind Barnaby’s wrists together, but he thinks better of it. This particular tie is far too attractive and expensive to used on someone incapable of even cooking a decent meal. 

 

“A bath would be nice,” Maverick replies. He waves his hand, casually dismissing Barnaby. “Pour a little of that oil in the water. The new one I just bought.”

 

Barnaby should know better than to assume that Maverick actually needs him to do something other than be his live-in servant. He hates Maverick, despises him. Just knowing that such an despicably, filthy, old man has done unspeakable things to him fills him with rage. Evil thoughts consume him, swallowing everything once good about Barnaby Brooks, Jr. until there is nothing left but hate and a thirst for revenge. 

 

The sound of water rushing into the tub is almost soothing. Barnaby hums the tune of _Whatever Lola Wants_  as he stares into the bathroom mirror, blinking rapidly, allowing the lenses to settle comfortably over his eyes. His pants—loose, cotton, and black-hang low on his hips, showing off creamy, smooth, skin. The soft material caresses him in ways that Maverick has never been able to achieve. 

 

“Exactly how much water were you planning on filling it with?” Maverick asks. He slams his fist down on the faucet, shutting off the water. “If a single drop splashes over, you’ll be mopping the entire floor. Understood?”

 

“Yes, sir,” Barnaby answers. 

 

Maverick stares at Barnaby before sighing and rolling his eyes. “Honestly, Barnaby. Do you realize how ridiculous you look wearing those horrid things? It detracts from your overall appearance.” Maverick strips down to nothing and carefully steps into the tub. 

Slowly, Maverick lowers himself until he’s seated in the tub. The water sloshes around him, wetting his aged, wrinkled, skin enough to make Barnaby grimace as he watches through the mirror. 

 

“Sometimes I think you’re trying to rebel against me, Barnaby,” Maverick says. “But then I think how preposterous that would be. You would never do such a thing, would you Barnaby. Look at all you have here with me. Where would you be without me?  _What_ would you be without me?”

 

Happy.

 

_Barnaby’s certain of it._

 

“You’ll leave me first, sir,” Barnaby says. And he means every bit of it. He knows Maverick will leave him eventually. And if he has his way, it’ll be sooner rather than later. 

 

_Whatever Barnaby wants, Barnaby gets._

 

Something bright catches Barnaby’s eye and he peers down, looking at the blinking text on his cell phone, which alerts him that someone special is sending him an equally special text message. He’s thankful that he remembered to set his phone to silent. He’s even more thankful that he decided to half hide it under the fluffy red hand towel sitting atop the bathroom counter along with something else.

 

“How’s the water?”

 

“It will suffice,” Maverick answers. “A few degrees hotter wouldn’t have killed me.” He closes his eyes and leans his head back against the shower wall. 

 

“No,” Barnaby agrees. “But this will.”

 

Without much thought as to clean up, or alibi, or anything other than being  _free_ , Barnaby grabs a knife from beneath the hand towel with one hand and Maverick’s hair with the other. He yanks on Maverick’s hair, which is damp and greasy from the mugginess of the bathroom, and extends the older man’s neck up and out. Barnaby grips the knife tighter in his hand and stares down at Maverick, red eyes searching for fear. It doesn’t take long for him to find it. 

 

“Don’t do it, Barnaby,” Maverick says. “Think of the consequences of your actions. You’ll go to prison. Is that what you want? Do you know what they’ll do to someone like you in prison?”

 

“My guess is everything that you’ve been doing to him,” a voice says just before a man enters the bathroom. He’s dressed for style, wrapped in red and black with fake, fiery, red eyes just like Barnaby’s. “Thanks for leaving the door unlocked,” the man says to Barnaby. 

 

Maverick growls angrily, feeling foolish for being both tricked and betrayed. Kotetsu was a bumbling, foul-mouthed, idiot. He was too stupid for Maverick not to trust him. At least… that’s what Maverick had thought. “Kotetsu, you—”

 

Bored and feeling somewhat ignored, Barnaby flicks his wrist, cutting into Maverick’s throat and marveling at the volcano of blood that gushes from it. He smiles, watching as Maverick attempts to stop the bleeding. Barnaby doesn’t even flinch when those bloody hands grip his wrist, staining it with blood in an pathetic attempt at self-preservation. 

 

Kotetsu grabs Barnaby’s arm and pulls him closer. Using his thumb, he smears a few stray drops of blood along Barnaby’s chin. “Red’s a good color on you.” 

 

Barnaby smirks and leans forward, pressing his lips against Kotetsu’s. The smeared blood on his skin smudges against Kotetsu’s chin as well, staining both his skin and wetting his beard. “Likewise,” Barnaby whispers. 

 

“Mm.” Kotetsu raises his hand high enough to tug gently on one of Barnaby’s blond curls. “You hungry?”

 

“A little.”

 

“What do you want?”

 

“Italian.”

 

“Spaghetti?”

 

“Lasagna.”

 

Kotetsu rolls his eyes. “Whatever Bunny wants, Bunny gets. I’ll call it in.” He steps out of the bathroom, not wanting to be distracted by Barnaby or Maverick’s bloody body steadily seeping further and further into the tub. 

 

“I told you you’d leave me first.” Barnaby says. Picking up the hand towel, he tosses it into the tub where it lands on Maverick’s face, nearly covering it. Smiling, Barnaby leaves out of the bathroom, happy, bloody, and humming a very familiar tune.


End file.
